


Hereos and Winter Tales

by violatedwisdom



Category: NaPolA | Before the Fall (2004)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13561350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violatedwisdom/pseuds/violatedwisdom
Summary: Friedrich and Albrecht escaping. / Napola - an alternate ending.





	1. Chapter 1

„And what if we run away?“, Friedrich asked, upset and nervous, anticipating Albrecht's answer.

They have been fighting for who knows how long. It was the day before Albrecht's obliged withdrawal of the piece of work he wrote.

“They will take us back”, Albrecht countered, “I won't be able to take a glimpse of you or the school altogether. I’ll be gone. I don’t know what they plan on doing to you.”

“What else is there to do? What would you suggest? Staying? Do you actually want to stay?”

Albrecht watched him. Fear and resentment were the only motivations that directed him over the past couple of days. Sitting on the floor of their shared room, he looked at Friedrich as if he wanted wholeheartedly to believe him. To believe in this plump proposal of being able to just run away.

“Albrecht, we should try it”, Friedrich asked of him, trying to control his voice and anger. All he wanted was to take Albrecht from this damned school. He didn't even blink, looking at Albrecht. “Please. We’re going to leave this night.”

Albrecht knew all too well that he was unable to reject his offer at this point. It seemed impossible to consider it, now that he had imagined, for some moments, that they could actually get away with it. He would have followed Albrecht into a suicide mission. What else was there to do?

***

Friedrich has always been popular, similarly among students and teachers. Until afternoon he knew everything about the teacher’s routines and the windows facing the exit. He proposed his ideas to Albrecht.

“I could tell Hefe I’ll get him a picture of my sister. He’ll throw a fit in the main hall to clear the Eastern side of the school. We should be able to escape before anyone notices."

“That is far too dangerous”, Albrecht stated. “What if he just changes his mind? In any case, we can't tell for sure they won't see us. There is nowhere to hide hundreds of meters around the school, no bushes, nor trees.”

“What if we just vanish whilst dinner takes place?”

“My father will notice. He'll be in the dinning hall tonight."

Albrecht was lost in thought, frowning and with his fingers tugging at his lips.

“We should leave when everyone’s asleep. There is no better way. Even when we consider the risk of waking someone up from our room.”

“As long as Christoph stays asleep.”

“If Christoph wakes up, it’s over.”

***

As Friedrich and Albrecht both quietly slipped out of their beds that night, neither of them knew where they would be the next morning. They pulled their prepared bags from under the sheets. Never seemed the hallways so dangerous. With hearts beating loudly, more so with every foreign sound, they made their way through the school.

They slipped into the night. Their breath was visible in the air and the ground was white of snow, reflecting the spare lights of the night. Silently they hurried towards the main gate, leaving imprints in the snow. They got their bikes on the way.

Albrecht circled directly behind Friedrich with the wheels almost touching. In a way, fear and doom vent on their bikes. In a fast pace they progressed through the forest, the wintry scene of the early day. Even the forest seemed to be sleeping.

They arrived at the river half an hour later with their muscles aching and their knees weak of exhaustion. They stumbled through the snow and carried their bikes through the forest towards the river bank. With full force they threw their bikes towards the open water. The stream carried them unnaturally fast along the broad river.

Friedrich saw the fear in Albrecht’s eyes, watching the bikes being pulled along in the current. But Albrecht kept quiet. He just asked, as if his mind was absent: “Should we better keep our clothes on or off?” The first light of day hung over their heads.

They waded into the water. Even within the first meters, the river tugged at their knees. The cold was close to unbearable. As they began swimming towards the other side of the river, the current dragged them along faster than they got closer towards the other side.

“We should stay on the river!” Albrecht shouted as they reached the centre. “This way, we will get even further away.” His voiced sounded breathless and rushed.

“They will never look for us on the other side!” Friedrich shouted back.

They looked at each other for a moment, pale faces, floating amidst the piercing coldness, trying to stay afloat with heavy clothing dragging them towards the bottom of the river. With lips pressed together Albrecht nodded his head.

The air hit them relentlessly, when they arrived at the other side of the river. Their clothing and bags were dripping wet, leaving water marks in the snow. With stiff arms and legs, they climbed up a hillside, pulling themselves up on tree roots. Friedrich who arrived on top gazed at his hands. The pain vanished – a numb and uncomfortable feeling spread through his reddened fingers. He didn’t feel them anymore as he pulled Albrecht up the hill.

***

They found the cabin when the sun rose and the snow began sparkling.

They collapsed behind the threshold. Leaning against the closed door, eyes closed, they sat next to each other.

“We…”, Albrecht managed to say, “should make a fire.”

Neither of them moved.

The cabin was just as cold as outside, though neither wind nor snow got inside. Opposite the door were shelves full of books and tools, cooking utensils among them. To the left were a few wooden chairs, a small table and a fireplace. On the right there was a mattress on the floor, with old and dusty blankets. There was even a Persian carpet, though every surface was dirty, full of dust and freezing cold. After a few minutes, they felt their own body warmth returning just a bit.

Two windows in between the shelves and the bed captured the light of the sun, which hit the wooden floor. Albrecht moved forwards, facing the sun and closing his eyes. The sun awarded him with the faintest feeling of warmth on his skin. Friedrich joined him and laid down next to him. Albrecht blinked and his gaze fell upon Friedrich’s facial features. They were peaceful.

“Did we make it?” Albrecht murmured.

“I hope so”, said Friedrich smiling, “after all this trouble.”

 

They had carried the mattress and the blankets in front of the fireplace, which Albrecht had managed to inflame. The fire was timid, strong smoke filled the air, but the warmth began spreading through their bodies again, alongside another emotion. Flickering hope.

“I think I’ll write my parents”, Friedrich said. He gazed into the fire, acutely aware of Albrecht watching him as if he was surprised. “Please help me with the words. I don’t want them to open letters and suspect anything of them.”

Albrecht agreed. Somewhere in his mind he was content with the idea of being able to do something. To occupy his mind and put it to work. He had the majority of blankets over his shoulders, Friedrich seemed to get warmer much faster. He could still see Albrecht’s red lips faintly coloured blue.

“We don’t have any money for food”, Albrecht stated sharply after a few moments.

Friedrich got up. With a loud thud and the sound of metal he put a bag down by the fire, the fabric still wet. It opened up before Albrecht’s eyes. Weapons, guns, more than a dozen. Albrecht wanted to say something, but no words left his mouth.

“I’m going to sell them”, Friedrich announced. Even he seemed to get some sort of satisfaction of being able to do something again, putting himself to work.

“What if they ask questions?”

“For that reason" Friedrich said jokingly, "I know how to use a gun.”

For a moment, both of them wished it was all a joke - to know how to use a gun at the age of seventeen.

“I’m glad you took them. I’m glad you’re selling them”, Albrecht said quietly and staring into the fire.

“I’m glad we’re here", Friedrich answered.


	2. Chapter 2

„Do you think the Swiss will be happy about the guns? You know, when I am selling them?” Friedrich asked Albrecht, pointing to his own attire. They had burned their uniforms before they used any of the wood but Friedrich had to keep the trousers. His own ones wouldn’t even cover his knees.

“You could always fake the accent”, Albrecht said.

Friedrich grinned and was about to say something.

“Please don’t. I was joking.”

Though Friedrich saw a small smile on Albrecht’s face and felt content with that.

They were sitting on opposite sides of the table on the floor with a map spread out in between them. On it you were able to make out Germany and Switzerland and a river separating the two countries, the river both of them crossed at night.

The original plan was to find Albrecht’s Swiss grandmother and Albrecht was trying to find a way South. He only remembered the city name from letters he saw as a child. Maybe he would be able to recognize the street name and from there look for his mother’s maiden name. Maybe they could ask if anyone knew her.

Afternoon came along. They had found books on finding mushrooms and had spent most of the day comparing a scarce harvest to the drawings. They had to cook most of them over the fireplace to be safe to eat.  
When eating, Albrecht stared at the bag Friedrich took along. The one with the guns.

“Do you not like them here?” Friedrich asked. Albrecht shook his head and his gaze dropped to his own plate.

“Well I don’t like them here. But what I don’t appreciate is you not telling me that you took them with you.”

“I didn’t think it was important”, Friedrich stated defensively. He was about to say sorry. He didn’t want them to fight, but Albrecht cut him off.

“It doesn’t matter how important it is. We’re doing this together. Don’t keep any secrets.” Albrecht’s voice was sharp. Angry and restless he put his plate down and got up.

“I won’t. I’m sorry.” He tried to sound genuine, though he felt that this wasn’t about the guns in his bag. So he asked him: “What are you thinking about?”

Worried, Friedrich watched Albrecht walk up and down over the hard wooden floor. He seemed to have ignored his apology. He ignored Friedrich’s questions.

“Why are we here?” Albrecht asked him, as if testing Friedrich.

“To be safe.”

Abruptly Albrecht stood still, looking at him. Friedrich never saw Albrecht look this troubled about something.

“And how will this help anyone?!” Albrecht exclaimed. “How will running away change anything? There is still the life of innocent people at stake. So why did we run instead of helping?!”

Friedrich’s expression fell. “I don’t know.”

“It was your idea!”

“What do you want me to do? You would’ve been sent to the Eastern front!”

This got Albrecht quiet.

He saw Friedrich’s anger and realized that he had wanted to make him angry from the beginning. Just as angry as he himself was, just as desperate. He started to feel bad for shouting. The idea of running away was the idea of both of them, Albrecht knew that.

Friedrich took some steps towards Albrecht.

“Don’t blame yourself for how things are”, Friedrich told him. “I know you’re doing it.”

Albrecht didn’t say anything. His breathing was still fast and shallow. Friedrich sat down to his plate again, trying to look calm, forgiving. After several moments, maybe a minute, Albrecht joined him.

***

Night came. They had everything packed for the next morning, planning to leave early. They would find the nearest shop first, selling their guns. Then they would try to find someone driving them towards their destination.

Both of them were lying in dimly lit darkness, pretending or trying to sleep.

Quietly, as if to not wake Friedrich up if he would be sleeping, Albrecht asked: „Do you have a sister?“

Friedrich turned his head slightly to Albrecht. He was staring at the ceiling.

“What are you talking about?”, he whispered back to Albrecht.

“You said you could show Hefe a picture of your sister, so he would distract the teachers”, Albrecht explained.

“I don’t”, Friedrich answered. After some moments of silence: “Would you have been interested in her?”

Albrecht let out a laugh, surprising Friedrich who had gotten used to the quiet. Though it didn’t seem like a laugh at all. More like an exhalation of air.

“I don’t plan on dating your siblings.”

Albrecht still had his eyes fixed to a point at the ceiling. Friedrich turned, trying to find out what he was looking at.

“I have a younger brother. He’s visiting elementary school.”

“What about your parents? What do they do?”

Friedrich frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“You don’t want to answer?”

“Why does it matter?” Friedrich said coldly.

Albrecht stayed quiet and Friedrich wanted to take back the sharpness in his voice. But Albrecht spoke up again.

“You’re writing them a letter. It doesn’t matter if that’s the first one you’ve written them. They are your parents. Whatever you did, they will be happy to see you again nevertheless.”

Friedrich shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Why are we talking about my parents?”

“We don’t have to”, Albrecht said. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

Both of them stayed quiet until Albrecht said: “We should sleep.”

Friedrich wanted to disagree. He wanted to continue talking, just not this way. In his mind he imagined them talking until late at night. But he didn’t know what to say, so instead he said: “Goodnight.”

***

Their plan seemed to work. When they got rid of their guns it was early in the morning. The shop owner seemed glad for the time of day. He agreed to buy the guns as the last customer in the shop left. Quickly, he hid them under the counter.

They bought cinnamon buns, pretzels and coffee, watching the morning mist over the river separating Switzerland and Germany when they ate them. When they finished, they turned their backs on their home country.

Only half an hour later of walking in the desired direction, waving at each vehicle, one car stopped besides them.

“Where are you heading?”

“Aarburg”, Albrecht said. He let them climb into the backseat of the car.

The driver glanced at them again. He looked wealthy and old. For five minutes they drove in silence. Then he pulled up.

“Inside you can get bikes”, he said briefly. Albrecht and Friedrich looked at each other, then they exited the car.

“Thank you for driving us!” Friedrich said but the man just glanced at his uniform trousers, turned and drove away.

“I think it will only take us three to four hours by bike”, Albrecht immediately changed the subject.

Friedrich glanced at the advertisement next to the entrance. “Our money will be enough for two bikes. Will we find the way?”

Albrecht got out his map. “I think so, yes.”

***  
Friedrich had to keep thinking about last night. Two things occupied his mind. The first one was easier to express.

Albrecht had asked questions last night not to drive him into a corner regarding Friedrich’s relationship to his parents. He now realized that. Albrecht had asked them because he wanted to get to know him.

The second thing was difficult to express.

It was the way Friedrich felt, when he realized Albrecht wanted to get to know him.

Or the way he felt watching Albrecht studying the map or driving alongside him on his bike. He had always deeply admired Albrecht, though this felt different. Friedrich began to realize that whatever came, whatever would await them in Switzerland, he would do anything to stay by Albrecht's side.

***

As they reached Aarburg and wandered around the city, Albrecht got visibly nervous. He tugged at his lips with his fingers, scanning the road names. Friedrich, to calm him down, tried asking him questions about his family. Then pointing out the river, or the castle, or other beautiful sights. The latter seemed to work to some extent.

Suddenly he paused.

“I think this is it.”

He looked around. “Look for the family name Frei.”

They had found it some minutes later. Albrecht took the lead, climbing up the stairs to the entrance, knocking on the wooden door.

It was about the time of lunch. Both of them felt like they were intruding. Especially when an older woman opened the door, wearing an apron and looking surprised. The house indeed smelled deliciously of food.

“I am so sorry to intrude”, Albrecht began. She had her eyes fixed on him as if to figure out why someone from Germany would be standing at her doorstep. In her gaze there was something motherly, caring even.

“I’m Albrecht” he continued. “My mother is Gerda Frei. I’m looking for Martha Frei.”

The woman gasped both her hands in front of her mouth.

“My dear, come inside”, she said. “I hate to tell you this. You might want to sit down. Come in!”

Both of them, completely startled by this welcome, entered the house. The moment the door was closed behind them, both of them felt something that they haven’t felt for a long time.

The sensation of safety.


	3. Chapter 3

The woman at the doorstep was named Heidi.

“I’m the sister of your mother, Albrecht”, she explained to them. “That is to say, I’m your aunt. And the past few years I took care of my mother, your grandmother you wanted to visit. But now I live here with my two children. Do you want to meet them?”

She called for their names. A boy and a girl came stumbling towards the kitchen, maybe three to four years old. Shyly they stood by the doorstep. “Now don’t be so coy!” Heidi told them, “Come here!”

The children, introducing themselves to Albrecht and Friedrich and had just the same accent as their mother. It always sparked a sense of wonder to hear a foreign language so naturally spoken by a child.

Heidi had cared for Albrecht’s grandmother until she passed away. In her last will, she left behind this house for the small family of three.

“We weren’t lucky the past few years”, she sighed. They could hear her children now, running around and playing in the living room.

“My husband deceased last year and now mother passed away. Except this house and my husband’s last earnings, I don’t have much. I try to do as much as possible, cleaning the houses of the neighbours, sometimes taking care of their children...”

Heidi was younger than Albrecht’s mother, though he couldn’t help seeing the similarities between them. The way Heidi moved across the room and her facial features, especially her eyes and brows, reminded him strongly of his own mother. Maybe it was also the fact that she took both of them in so openly, cooking more lunch for two extra guests; as if she had decided to execute her motherly nature over four children from now on, instead of two.

“Now we can help you, financially, can’t we?” Albrecht offered her.

“Do you know where we could work?” Friedrich asked, already enthusiastic about it. It was overwhelming how a stranger took him in so lovingly, as if Friedrich too was part of the family.

“Of course”, she seemed as if surprised that the idea hadn’t come to her mind yet. “I’ll introduce you both to some people tomorrow who might be happy to get some help.”

After helping Heidi clean up the kitchen, Friedrich was writing his letter to his parents and Albrecht assisted him, sitting opposite at the kitchen table, trying out formulations with Friedrich to find out which ones sounded best. His eyes scanned not more than half a page of the book which he was reading until Friedrich needed assistance again.

From the kitchen table you could view the garden. A layer of snow covered the grass except some rare places where the ground was sheltered by the roof, or a bench, or a tree. There was still snow falling. It felt overwhelmingly comfortable sitting inside. Soon, they had finished the tea Heidi had made them.

Friedrich then finished his letter and Albrecht seemed to have been waiting for this.

“Do you want to take a walk?” Albrecht asked him, closing the book.

Friedrich found his features to be captivating; pale blue eyes watching him with a wondering look on his face.

“Sure. Do you want to see the Aarwaage as well?”

With a pile of books in both her arms, Heidi emerged from the basement of the house. She instantly took part in the conversation.

“Foreigners always seem to like the Aarwaage”, she began, “and here are these books I talked about, Albrecht. I never had the time to read them. Will you tell me what these books are about after you’ve finished?”

“Of course”, Albrecht said gratefully, helping her put the books down on the table.

“Well, the Aarwaage”, she began again, “I see nothing special in it anymore, to be completely honest. Some water moving. But you enjoy yourselves!”

She helped them up their chairs and almost pushed them towards the exit where their warm clothes lied. Just before they left, Heidi winked at Friedrich. Puzzled, he regarded her face and, moments later, the closed door in front of him. 

“Did you see this?” Friedrich asked whilst Albrecht already had walked towards the low fence gate.

Albrecht looked around. “See what?”

“Nevermind”, Friedrich murmured, exhaling white smoke into the winter air as he spoke.

“Let’s go then.”

***

Friedrich and Albrecht were not the only ones strolling around the city. Even though the atmosphere of the early afternoon was acutely quiet and tranquil, some citizens had decided to take a postprandial walk alongside the river. Equipped with scarfs Heidi gave them, and with their hands deep inside their pockets, they tried finding their way towards the Aarwaage.

The castle of the city was in full sight before them, beautifully enthroned and watching over the city, watching over the wide river that emerged in front of their view.

As they saw it, the Aarwaage, it almost felt unnatural at first. The water moved in a great circle, a slow whirl taking up the entire water basin in front of them.

“The river meets this place with a fast current”, Albrecht explained, “and naturally raises the water level, even more so because of the rock in its way on which the castle stands.”

“This causes the whirl?”

Albrecht nodded.

Both of them viewed the natural phenomenon with a newly-won curiosity. The snow falling from the sky joined the whirl all the same, as if everything drew towards the circling masses of water.

“You know Nietzsche?” Albrecht changed the topic.

“I think so. I think, I’ve once browsed through Beyond Good And Evil at home.”

They were quiet for some moments, Friedrich searching his memory for the philosopher. It seemed as though Albrecht wanted to allude to something, though he did not know what it was.

“Hold on”, it was on the tip of Friedrich’s tongue, “how is it called? The life that is forever repeated?”

A small smile surfaced on Albrecht’s lips.

“The eternal recurrence of the same.”

“Didn’t you write about it once?”, he asked but Albrecht only shrugged.

“No, I remember”, he insisted. “The eternal recurrence: Nietzsche’s appeal to live your life as if you had to life it again eternally.”

Friedrich viewed the river again, whirling around again, and again, and again.

He tried to remember Albrecht’s word which he wrote some months, maybe a year ago. 

“I think you wrote about bad conscience, didn’t you?”

Friedrich remembered yesterday, their argument. For one thing, he felt like he shouldn’t bring this up, he didn’t want to see Albrecht hurt again. But to talk about it, wasn’t it the best way to deal with what happened?

“You wrote about immoral acts”, he continued, “even trivial or minuscule crimes of morality. You argued that only integrity would help us fully accept ourselves.”

“I did, yes”, Albrecht nodded with his words, as if to convince himself.

They continued to stand still, watching the river whirl around itself, like a leisurely dance.

Friedrich wondered and wondered what was going on in Albrecht’s head. How could he comfort him? What was the best way to support him in the following weeks, months and, ideally, years?

Trying to make him speak again, he said, full of wonder: “Never have I seen a river flowing upstream.”

Albrecht answered in an instant: “Doesn’t anything seem possible at this point?”

As Friedrich turned to Albrecht, he was already looking at him.

“I need to ask you something”, Albrecht said, stepping closer to Friedrich. He seemed to shiver; maybe his coat was too thin.

“Actually, no. What I wanted to tell you first is that I disagree. Integrity is not enough to fully accept ourselves. It is by far not enough, having eternal recurrence in mind.” He kept fumbling with the ends of his jacket. This didn’t seem to be about Nietzsche anymore.

He took a deep breath. “I can’t… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself without having said this, so…” He kept trailing of, losing his voice. All his thoughts came down to one expression.

“Bravery.”

Something in Friedrich gravitated towards that word. Bravery. If you will live again and again the same life you lived once, is bravery not the key to live it without any regrets, without a bad conscience?

What do I need to be brave for?

Albrecht seemed to know it already, know it for both of them.

Because in that moment, Albrecht was brave enough to draw even closer to Friedrich, their winter jackets almost touching. Even though he felt completely overwhelmed, Friedrich smiled at Albrecht.

“Bravery”, he whispered, closing the gap between them, putting his lips to Albrecht’s lips.

This is what bravery was. Like an explanation, or justification he had whispered it into the space in between them, as if to say: ‘I don’t know if you had the same thing in mind, but there is no other way to find out. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m the only one wanting to kiss you. But at least I’m brave enough to try.’

Albrecht instantly kissed him back.

Their affection for each other seemed to have found its conclusion in one small word. Or much rather, Albrecht had found it, ripping it out of both of them with that one word, that one crucial quality.

Friedrich was filled to the brim with fondness of their kiss. His hands had found warm cheeks, a warm neck to touch; his senses so acutely focused on Albrecht’s reaction, on anything Albrecht did, from the breath of his lips, his kisses, that seem to deepen now, and his hands suddenly tied around Friedrich.

They heard a woman gasp. They heard an angry exclamation of someone far older than them. They heard footsteps of people in Aarburg, quickly getting quieter as if fleeing.

But as they parted, Albrecht, like in disbelief of what both of them did, laughed and Friedrich couldn’t help to grin. What was their judgement against their own? Why should they, strangers, dictate what to do in their lives? He pulled Albrecht in once more; kissing his face though not is lips, hoping Albrecht still had words left so say.

“I think I love you like a man loves a woman”, Albrecht murmured, eyes closed, furrowing his eyebrows, then correcting himself: “Or as a man loves a man. And I think I’m brave enough to do so.”

Tightly, Friedrich wrapped his arms around his body. There was only one thing left to say.

“I am too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write an alternate ending really badly, so there it is. I plan on writing three chapters after which this will be a finished story. You can count on some love stuff in chapter three. I hope you enjoy/ed!


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